


Fragile

by scandalsavage



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Fingering, Dark, Day 3: War Prize, Dick and Tim are adopted, First Time Blow Jobs, Jason is Bruce's Biological Son, Kinda, M/M, Oral Knotting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pseudo-Incest, Public Blow Jobs, Public Humiliation, Slade is a bad guy, So is Damian, Vaginal Fingering, Violent Sex, intersex omega, medieval laws but still reads as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: [[For Helenna. You were an inspiration.]]Slade has heard the rumors. Saw one of the invitations when Luthor, with that air of self importance that puts Slade a breath away from finally just gutting him and dealing with his annoyingly chivalrous son, flashed it in his face the last time Slade’s army was at the gates of Metropolis.It might be part of the reason Slade moved up his plans for Gotham.Princess Jason is King Bruce’s eldest blood child. It would go a long way to securing the crown prince’s place in the eyes of the world beyond Gotham, if he were to be blood-bound to the king and his legacy.So the two were encouraged to court, and considering the wedding notices that went out to the other kings of the world, it went well.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 184
Collections: SladeRobin Weekend 2020





	Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> Just a couple things before you start...
> 
> Jason and Damian are Bruce's biological children, Dick and Tim are adopted. 
> 
> Alphas = prince  
> Omegas = princess

There’s nothing like a good slaughter to make one feel alive.

Slade picks his way through the field of corpses. Some are his own men, of course. But more are the enemy. His army is unparalleled. Most kingdoms see them coming and open their gates, offering him and his men whatever they want to leave the place largely intact. 

Gotham isn’t  _ most kingdoms _ though. Slade has tried to conquer it several times over the last couple decades. Or rather, he tried to conquer it the first time and suffered his first loss. Then poked at them repeatedly to learn their weaknesses and how they compensated for him.

This time, he’d been certain. 

Two of his soldiers drag a muddy, bloody young man to him and force him to his knees. Several steps beyond, another, similarly wretched looking boy is held upright by a grunt, blood spilling sluggishly from a wound on the upper left side of his rib cage, just missing a lung. 

Two pairs of bright, blue eyes, peer back at him from beneath the grime. 

“My brother needs care,” the one on his knees snarls up at him, voice dipping into that deep, authoritative Alpha baritone. “You’ve won, Slade. Send him to the physicians.”

Prince Richard has been one of Slade’s favorite adversaries over the years. The way the boy fights is art in motion. He considers his inability to convince the gallant young prince to join him, one of his life’s few failures. 

Slade nods at the man supporting the younger prince, Timothy, and he starts making his way to a wagon. The teen is a worthy protege for his elder brother, with all the technical skill of Richard but little of the experience or knack for improvisation.

“You will accompany me to the palace gates,” Slade orders, his own alpha rumble much deeper and more threatening than Richard’s. Not that that means anything if it came to a fight. Female alphas rarely hit the same low timbre but Slade knows more than one he’d rather not cross. But the heavy iron shackles binding Richard’s wrists and ankles make him less of a concern. 

“Your army has already taken the city,” the prince growls. “You will not be turned away whether I’m with you or not.”

Another nod and the men pull Richard to his feet. Slade mounts his horse and takes the prince’s chain in hand before setting a leisurely pace. 

Slade doesn’t doubt the king will open the palace gates for him, regardless of the prince’s presence. Bruce cares more for the people in his kingdom than most royals Slade’s ever met. It’s always been a strength before. Until now. Now it’s a liability. 

Not only will he want his sons back, Bruce will want Slade to keep his army in line as well. 

And that’s going to cost him.

Dearly.

* * *

Slade is surprised to find a formal reception waiting for him. He drags the captured prince down the aisle, taking a great deal of delight in the blood-infused mud and battle grime that flakes off the both of them onto the rich rugs. 

The assembled lords and ladies don’t seem to mind but they glare at him nonetheless.

King Bruce sits stiffly, spine straight as an arrow, face drawn into an impassive mask. The king’s favored advisor stands at his left shoulder, just as primly. On his right, the youngest prince stands in a similar fashion, peering down his nose at Slade like the mercenary is a particularly irksome bug he’d like to squash. 

Gotham has unusual laws. In any other kingdom, Prince Damian, being of the king’s own blood, would be the crown prince. But here, as the eldest, Prince Richard holds that right, despite his adopted status. Even Timothy, also adopted but not having the privilege of birthright, is ahead of the little alpha in the line of succession because he is older. 

Which draws Slade’s one good eye to the outlier in the family of alphas. 

Standing just behind his younger brother, obviously tucked away in a shadow in an attempt to hide him, is the only omega of the pack. The princess’s sharp, cyan eyes track Slade’s every muscle twitch, his concern etched into the smooth, rounded features of his pretty face. 

He gives the princess his slimiest smirk and watches the omega’s lip curl in an inaudible growl. 

Slade has heard the rumors. Saw one of the invitations when Luthor, with that air of self importance that puts Slade a breath away from finally just gutting him and dealing with his annoyingly chivalrous son, flashed it in his face the last time Slade’s army was at the gates of Metropolis. 

It might be part of the reason Slade moved up his plans for Gotham. 

Princess Jason is King Bruce’s eldest blood child. It would go a long way to securing the crown prince’s place in the eyes of the world beyond Gotham, if he were to be blood-bound to the king and his legacy. 

So the two were encouraged to court and considering the wedding notices that went out to the other kings of the world, it went well.

Slade stops at the foot of the steps to the throne. 

Behind him, he hears his officers file into the room, lining the walls of the audience chamber to remind the royals exactly who is in charge.

“What do you want,” the king says. His voice is steady and unaffected but deep enough to match Slade’s own. It makes the threat in it obvious without being outright threatening. 

“Straight to it then?” Slade quips.

“I don’t think you’ll be surprised to learn that I want you and horde out of my kingdom as quickly and quietly as possible. Preferably with little destruction, if you’re able to restrain yourselves. You have a successful business, terrorizing kingdoms and holding them ransom. Let’s not prolong negotiations with unnecessary posturing. Give me your price.”

Slade cocks a brow. He admires the king’s candidness. Frank personalities are often easier to negotiate with and usually that earns them a small consideration.

This time though… Slade isn’t interested in negotiations.

“Unfortunately, that won’t be happening this time. I’ve developed a fondness for your kingdom over the years. And I want it,” Slade says.

The sound of metal scraping scabbards echoes as his men unsheathe their weapons. The nobles go deadly silent as fear freezes them in place. 

Slade pulls his knife and puts it to Richard’s throat. 

A vicious snarl slices through the thick tension so abruptly that even Slade flinches a little. Commotion in the corner of his eye snaps his attention back to the omega.

Jason is growling and struggling with his younger brother who is attempting to hold him back from charging Slade. The prince might be younger, but the princess is a slight, slip of a thing. They don’t ever mention it, but he was kidnapped as a child, escaped in the middle of the night several weeks into his capture, leaving his guard with his throat slit, then spent the next year or so wandering through the wilderness and villages, surviving on… whatever, until he was discovered by the al Ghuls and nursed back to health. Conveniently in time to deliver his brother to their father. But the time the boy spent living on berries left its mark on his development. 

Slade’s heard it also left him with a wild streak. 

“Jason, stop,” Richard pleads, holding up his bound hands as if to physically keep the younger boy from approaching. 

Chuckling in his ear, Slade digs the point of the knife into the prince’s scent gland. “You don’t  _ ask _ omega’s to do anything, kid. You  _ order _ them.” He lowers his voice, makes it deep and resonant, intimate but still loud enough for the royals to hear. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you to control your bitch.”

This time Richard growls at him, teeth bared. So Slade kicks his knees out and lets him drop to the floor like a stone. 

“That’s enough.” The king's voice is firm and loud and  _ alpha. _

He’s on his feet and the advisor is shuffling the prince and princess to his side so he can hold them close.

Even some of his own men twitch at Bruce’s command.

With a sigh, Slade catches Billy’s eye and jerks his head toward the throne. 

Jason snaps his teeth at the battle-hardened soldier when Wintergreen grabs his arm and tries to pull him away from his father and brother. 

The back of Wintergreen’s hand cracks across the kid’s cheek. It’s not as hard as Slade can hit but Billy didn’t hold back at all. 

Bruce snarls, flashing his own teeth, and steps forward, taking the princess’s other arm to stop the boy being taken. 

“Back off, Your Highness,” Slade says with a bored lilt, pressing knife just hard enough to slice into Richard’s skin, drawing a surprised yelp. “Prince Timothy is with  _ my  _ physicians and you’re one wrong move from getting your heir gutted at your feet.”

The king pauses and Slade watches with satisfaction when his throat bobs with a hard swallow. 

“There are two options here,” he growls, deadly serious now. “Either you give me what I want and go quietly to a cell where your children can still visit when I allow. Or I kill you now and take it anyway.”

His men shift into combat ready stances as one to reiterate his point. 

Bruce looks around the hall, one arm wrapped around Prince Damian, the other still holding onto the princess. He shares a long long look with Richard where an unspoken conversation takes place.

Then he turns back to Jason, eyes a little glassy, unless Slade is mistaken, and searches his face for something. 

Forgiveness probably, Slade thinks, not bothering to hide the grin that pulls his lips at the knowledge that the king  _ knows _ exactly what is going to happen to the pretty little omega when he’s no longer there to protect him.

It’s taking too long so Slade growls. “Give me your crown or I’ll take it from your head after it hits the ground.”

The man looks like he ages a hundred years in a moment when he says, “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Jason says with conviction, leaving no room for argument. 

“Your court is rather soft on your omegas,” Slade taunts. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach the breeder his place for you.”

The king’s face pinches like he bit into a sour lemon. But this time, when Billy pulls at the princess’s arm, the king releases him after only a brief hesitation. Then hands Wintergreen his crown.

Prince Damian starts to growl as the omega is dragged away from him none too gently. The king wraps both arms around the young alpha and holds him close. 

It’s the reminder Slade needs. 

“Take them both to the dungeon,” he says to a group of five of his men. Then nods to another group. “Go with them.”

There’s a quiet murmur of discontent through the assembled nobility. Both Richard and Jason react much more strongly, tugging at their captor’s grips.

“Wise decision,” Wintergreen says as he approaches, dragging a livid, snarling princess along. Then adds with a knowing smirk, “The little prince may be small, but he’s still an al Ghul.”

Slade rolls his one good eye at the snarky reminder of how he lost the other to the prince’s mother years before the little demon was born. Then he looks Jason over. 

He wears a soft green tunic with exquisite embroidery along the hem at his ankles, accentuating the curve of his waist, and drawing the eyes to the line of his collarbone. Beneath the tunic, peeking out of the upward cuts at the sides and bottom, are the modesty skirts, loose fitting and paler green. His raven hair hangs to just below his ears in loose, cherubic curls. Slade notes the boy doesn’t bother with the light rouge or lip color that has become the style for omegas at court, but there’s a anger-pink flush to his cheeks and he’s worried his plump lips red. 

Slade has a vivid image of those lips stretched wide around his knot and his cock leaps with interest. 

He lets the assessing crawl of his gaze over the princess’s form be crystal clear in his intent, taking no small satisfaction in the way the boy shudders. But when Slade’s attention returns to his face, he sees rage and defiance in the steely, steady glare. 

The average omega has never held much interest to him. Too many easily submit to the expectations of their designations and push aside their instincts. The few who have caught his eye, have been less inclined to do so. Slade is delighted to find his suspicions about the lost princess confirmed.

Jason has the same wild, untamed look in his bright, cyan eyes that Talia does. Slade expects that if he lets his guard down, the omega will be happy to relieve him of his sight entirely.

Releasing the princess, Wintergreen draws his own knife and takes Slade’s place, guarding Richard so that Slade can focus on the omega. 

The boy meets his eye, gaze unwavering. He doesn’t flinch or look away when Slade takes his chin between thumb and forefinger. 

“You’re going to help me secure my claim to this kingdom, little one,” he rumbles, moving his thumb up to caress across the boy’s lower lip.

He partially expects the bite, but the kid is faster than he anticipates. The teeth come down quick and hard enough to punch through the skin at the base of his thumb. 

Slade jerks the digit out and strikes the omega with his open palm hard enough to send him tumbling to the floor. This time, when Slade takes the bitch by the chin, he wraps his hand around Jason’s throat, digging his fingers and thumb into his jaw, and roughly pulls him to his knees. 

The blood smeared across the princess’s satisfied grin is likely a mix of both of theirs. Between that, the defiance plastered plain as daylight over every feature, and the  _ mark _ the omega left on his flesh sends heat flooding throughout Slade’s body and he meets the challenge with his own, far more dangerous, smile.

“Feisty little thing,” Billy comments, wrangling Prince Richard back in place.

“Just the way I like them.”

“I’ll never say vows to you,” the omega spits at him. His eyes dart over to his betrothed. His brows knit together as he realizes they can be used against each other. “And even if I did, coercion annuls any bonds.”

Laughter peels out from amongst Slade’s men, even Billy smiles at the show of naivete. 

A little color rises in the boy’s cheeks but he holds Slade’s gaze, a hard look on his face even if his cheeks, squished under Slade’s grip, makes him look more like an angry puppy. 

“I’m not going to wed you, boy,” Slade growls, bringing his knife up to the neckline of the tunic and slipping the tip over the edge, between flat breasts. The omega’s gaze never wavers from meeting Slade’s eye, even as the kid stiffens, his breath quickening, lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. “I’m going to  _ breed _ you.”

With a rough jerk, Slade slices a four inch tear into the chest of the tunic (nicking the smooth, unmarked skin beneath). He relishes the feel of Jason swallowing hard against his palm. 

He throws the knife on the floor, careful to keep it out of reach of the prince (and princess) or any onlooker who might be foolish enough to try to come to their aide, and removes his hand from the boy’s throat in favor of slipping behind him so that Jason’s fiance has an uninhibited view, and gripping either side of the tear. 

Finally, the omega starts to tremble, just a little, chest heaving with each shaky breath. But it’s enough to set Slade’s instincts to take and claim blazing through him. 

“Wait!” Richard cries out, still futilely struggling with Wintergreen. “Please… Slade, please. Don’t…”

Slade smiles at him, all teeth, sharp canines on full display. 

The prince’s face falls. His eyes fix on the boy who was supposed to be his mate. “Jason—”

The silk of the tunic offers no resistance, ripping as easily as paper when Slade slowly pulls it apart. He lets the pads of his fingers brush over soft, warm skin, tease the little buds of the omega’s nipples to hardness, smooth over the flat, muscled planes of his belly, only resting one big palm over the boy’s womb when the garment is split in two and pooled on the floor at their feet. 

Most of the nobles present have their noses scrunched in distaste, but more than a few watch the proceedings with unveiled interest. Slade makes note of their faces for later. 

His own men whistle and jeer and shout vile suggestions or rude observations about the princess’s body and what it’s good for.

Tears stream down Prince Richard’s face as he stares, unblinkingly, up at the exposed princess, in horror 

Keeping his eyes on the prince, Slade presses his nose and lips to the scent gland below Jason’s ear, enjoying the feel of that little body pressed against his as it shakes  _ for real _ now. He takes a deep breath of concentrated scent, less marred by the perfumes common for omega’s position. The spiced honey scent has a slightly milky quality to it that only means one thing.

“You’re a proper virgin aren’t you,  _ princess _ ?” Slade purrs, loud enough for the whole room to hear. He raises his left hand up to snatch the boy by the jaw and tilts his head back and to the side so that it rests against Slade’s chest, exposing the column of the omega’s throat and granting him access to that mouth. 

A tear slides silently down the princess’s cheek, as he stubbornly tries to maintain what little dignity he has left. 

Slade licks the seam of the boy’s lips, daring him to try to bite again, but he doesn’t take the bait. At the same time, he drops his right hand from where it rests low, just above the waistband of the pale green skirts, to plunge between the omega’s legs. He presses his fingers between the folds of the omega’s slit and rubs back and forth through the thin fabric.

“Never had a drop of alpha cum inside any of your holes.” He puts his whole arm into massaging the slut’s cunt, putting pressure against the gloriously tight entrance but never dipping in. His cock will be the first thing to breach each opening. “I’m going to fix that. I’m going to fill your cunt and your ass and your mouth so full of my cum, your belly will be big, even in the rare months you aren’t carrying my children.”

He feels a wave of satisfaction as the spot starts to grow wetter and wetter. 

The kid is biting his lip now, tears pouring down his face, shaking like a leaf as he stares at Richard for strength even as his shame grows more obvious to the entire room.

“It’s just your body’s natural response to being stimulated,” Slade murmurs in the boy’s ear, this time quiet enough that the words are just between them. “But that’s not what they think, is it? If an omega gets wet when they’re not in heat, it’s because they want it, isn’t that right, little princess?”

“Jay?” Richard’s voice is gentle but it still cuts through the heat and quiet tension building. Not enough to douse it, Slade’s knot is going to pop no matter what at this point. But it’s still enough to piss him off. “Jason listen to me. Whatever he’s telling you? It’s a lie. Ok? I know you, beloved—”

Slade snorts. “That’s not true is it though? I’m not lying to you. You’re thinking it too aren’t you? That maybe, deep down where those ancient instincts lie, that something inside of you, wants  _ me  _ inside of you. You want it, don’t you, princess.”

“No,” the kid snarls.

When he moves, it’s so fast and sudden that Slade just barely manages to catch him by the forearm before the tiny,  _ maybe  _ 5’2” omega buries a dagger in his skull.

He doesn’t even know where the kid got it. Didn’t even see him retrieve it. 

The growl he directs down into that pretty face has stopped full grown alpha soldiers in their tracks. Even Billy and Richard freeze in their renewed struggle, tilting their heads minutely in submission. Omegas and alphas alike hit their knees or bare their throats throughout the room.

But the diminutive, half naked, half aroused, fragile little princess, whose arm feels like a twig Slade can break without a thought,  _ growls back _ .

Then the bitch flicks his wrist, changing the grip on the blade from plunging to swiping, and before Slade registers what’s happened he feels warmth bloom in a line across his cheekbone preceding the telltale drip of blood.

The entire room holds its breath. No one moves. If Slade were to look up, he would find every single person in the reception hall staring at them in rapt attention.

But he doesn’t look up. His vision tunnels. 

And he finally gives into the instincts he’s been putting off since the omega first sneered at him.

He tightens his grip on the princess’s arm until bones grind together. Jason’s face twists in pain and he drops the blade.

“That,” Slade says calmly, wiping at his own blood and smearing it over the kid’s lips while he fruitlessly struggles to break Slade’s hold, “was a mistake.”

He drags the bitch up the dias to the throne, throwing him at it so hard the little thing slams into and crumples to the ground.

Slade catches him and forces him to his knees in front of the massive chair before taking his seat and motioning to Wintergreen.

Heavy breathing from the omega and the clanking of chains as Richard is brought forward are the only sounds in the room.

“Bring me the princess’s dagger,” he barks, snapping his fingers at one of his men.

When he has it in hand, he drags the blade over Jason’s face and scalp and bare shoulders. 

“You’re lucky I’m a generous alpha. I like my omegas violent and obstinate and I bear more than one mark from more than one omega who has presented a challenge. The inevitable submission is so much sweeter when you work for it. But you? I’m going to  _ break  _ you. I  _ hope  _ you fight me. I hope you hold out for  _ months _ . You need to be taught your place. Lesson one… you drew your alpha’s blood. Twice. Now it’s my turn.”

Richard blinks in confusion when Slade holds the knife out for him to take.

“What—”

“Take it,” Slade snaps at him. His tone makes it immensely clear that now is not a good moment to test his patience.

Gulping, the prince takes it, keeping his grip loose and nonthreatening.

Moving deliberately, so that both boys know exactly what’s happening, Slade frees his cock, watching their eyes go wide when it bounces free, nearly as long as the princess’s forearm and easily as thick.

He snaps his hand out, twisting the strands of the omega’s angelic curls between his fingers, and jerks the kid forward. 

“You don’t need to do anything yet, princess. I don’t want your teeth on me for this part. Just breathe in the scent and try to figure out how you’re going to swallow the whole thing.”

Slade smooths his free hand down Jason’s spine and back up across his shoulders, taking in the expanse of smooth, clear skin. 

“You,” he says to Richard, as he traces a curved path between the shoulder blades, “are going to carve my banner into his skin.”

The prince looks at him in horror. “I won’t—”

“You will,” he insists, tugging Jason’s hair to get his attention. “You will do exactly as I order, in a timely fashion, and without rebellion. That goes for you and your teeth too. I have three princes and a king, not to mention any of the members of court you may be fond of. I might need the princess, but the rest of you are expendable and I’m itching to prove to you how serious I am. So go ahead and disobey.”

Richard’s eyes dart around like he’s looking for a miracle.

“Jay—”

“Get to it, your highness,” Slade cuts in. He doesn’t want Jason telling him it’s alright. Doesn’t want to give either of them the peace of mind such a statement would provide. 

When he still hesitates, Slade sighs dramatically and looks to his men.

“Ok!” Richard squeaks. “Ok. I… I’m doing it.”

The princess grunts and exhales heavily and hot against Slade’s dick when Richard presses the point into his skin and starts making a light, razor-thin line. 

“I said  _ carve _ it into him,” Slade reminds the prince with a wicked grin. “Deeper. Deep enough and thick enough to leave a scar and remind you both who the slut belongs to. If I’m not satisfied, I’ll make you do it again.”

Richard sneers up at him but takes his warnings to heart. The prince starts crying when the princess starts screaming and thrashing. 

When he’s finished, he stumbles back, dropping the blade. His face is a bit green and he looks like he’s going to be sick, as he stares at the giant, bloody “S” he carved into his love’s flesh. 

The omega has collapsed against Slade’s lap gasping for air, tears pouring down his face, shaking in agony and fear. 

Slade pets the sweat-damp curls for a moment. Providing a little comfort before he pours salt in the wound. 

Then he reclines against the backrest and puts his arms up on the cushioned rests.

“Alright omega,” he purrs. “Show me what you’re good for.”

The fire in the boy’s glare is dimmed by pain and he struggles to sit up. But he’s trying so Slade waits patiently. 

When Jason is finally back on his knees and taking a few steadying breaths, Slade slips a finger under his chin and gently tilts his face up until their eyes meet. 

“Remember, princess. If you bite me, I will kill someone you love so close to you you’ll be covered in their blood.”

The boy gulps and nods.

Then he leans in. 

Slade’s cock looks absolutely massive in the omega’s small hands but he’s bedded small omegas before. He’s confident he’ll fit down the kid’s throat.

Jason licks a stripe up the vein on the underside, His tongue is hot and wet and Slade is so on edge already that it takes all his control to refrain from immediately bucking up. 

He keeps up the kittenish licking for several minutes. Slade respects the wisdom. If the boy is going to take the whole thing, it’s going to have to be as slick as possible.

Slade waits, watching, until those plush lips, reddened and tacky with blood, stretch around the head of his cock. Jason hollows his cheeks and sucks.

Groaning, Slade allows his hips to twitch up. “Damn princess,” he purrs. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a professional.”

That gets him a glance from wet, blue eyes and Slade can see the fire spark behind them again.

“Richard.”

The prince snaps his attention back to Slade. He’d had his eyes closed tight and that just won’t do.

“Why don’t you give the princess a hand?”

Heat rushes to the other alpha’s face so fast, Slade can’t help laughing at him.

“Don’t look so indignant, boy. I don’t want  _ your _ mouth anywhere near me.”

Proud brows furrow in confusion.

Slade nods down at Jason. “Pin his hands behind his back.”

Richard moves slowly, like Slade is a wild animal he thinks might jump at him. Jason pauses with several inches of Slade’s cock in his mouth and moves his hands behind his back in tacit permission.

The prince swallows hard but takes the princess’s wrists in his hand.

“Now put your other hand in his hair.”

Eyes stuck on the still bleeding brand, Richard looks like he’s obeying without thought as he reaches up and lightly threads his fingers into the tangle of curls.

“You’re going to move him according to my commands,” Slade says. He takes a great deal of joy in the way that gets the other alpha’s eyes to tear away from the princess's mutilated back. “Push him down.”

As expected, Jason starts moving without Richard’s guidance. 

Sighing, Slade pulls him up off his cock and slaps him hard across the face. 

While the boy blinks away the daze and sputters, Slade rests the head of his dick against those pillowy lips and strokes himself.

He puts a hint of a warning growl into his words when he says, “I’m not going to tell you again, boy.”

With a stuttering breath, Richard pushes down on the princess’s head, forcing Slade’s cock back into that blissful warmth. 

He waits until he feels Jason’s throat flutter and hears him gag. 

“Faster. Make him take it all.”

The prince closes his eyes and mutters a soft apology before shoving down harder.

Jason starts to struggle and Slade groans as he feels the boy’s throat start to convulse, desperate for air.

When Richard starts to pull the princess back up, Slade barks out a strained, “Stop”.

He rolls his hips up, feels the beginning of his knot press against lips stretched obscenely wide. At any other time he might be embarrassed it happened so quickly. But with the battle still fresh, his victories against the Gotham alphas stacking up, and toying with pretty, untouched omega above his humble origins, Slade is riding higher on his alpha hormones as he ever has before.

The rest of the room happens to catch his eye. He had completely forgotten they were there. Half his men and many of the alpha lords have their hands in their own trousers. 

“Billy,” he practically  _ breathes _ , and waves vaguely at the foot rest kept off to the side in case the king wants it. 

Fortunately Wintergreen knows him well.

“Raise your knees, princess,” Billy says, voice kind but certainly affected. “One at a time. There’s a good boy.” 

The new position allows for Slade’s prick to slip deeper into the soft, tight gullet. He thrusts up, watching as the boy chokes and turns red as his air is cut off. And it puts the slut essentially on his hands and knees, raising his ass into the air.

After a long minute, Slade says, “Let him up for air but keep him on my cock. And let go of his hands,” before looking at the omega and adding “You put your hands on my knees and keep sucking.”

The prince doesn’t hesitate to comply with that command, dropping the princess’s wrists like he got burned while the bitch gasps for air before obediently closing his lips around the first few inches and getting back to work.

“Pull up his skirts,” Slade rumbles, savoring the way Richard’s eyes widen. “Give my subjects a good look at the cunt that will bear their future king.”

Slade’s men cheer, shouting vulgar encouragement. Even a handful of the lords vocalize their gratitude for a look at the princess’s virgin holes. 

“Slade, please…” Richard pleads, even as he slowly begins gathering the flowing fabric. 

Slade just smiles at him until the garment is pooled in the small of the omega’s back. 

More whistles and jeers.

“Spread open so we can see better,” one alpha shouts, and Slade’s positive it’s one of the Gotham courtiers. 

“You heard the man,” Slade chuckles. Richard looks positively miserable as he pulls Jason’s ass and cunt open, exposing every last inch of him to the room.

“Jesus the bitch is soaking wet.”

“Always knew he was a little whore.”

“Damn boss you were right! Ain’t no way that ass ever been touched before.” 

“Take in while you can. The next time you see it, both the slut’s holes will be gaping and leaking my cum,” Slade boasts.

There’s a wave of laughter that definitely encompasses most of the room as the royal’s own closest companions are swayed by the crowd.

“Fuck his face on my cock,” he snarls at the Prince, feeling that tingling sensation at the base of his spine that acts as an warning for his eminent release. “Hard and fast. Don’t stop until I order you.”

Richard seems to have decided it’s best for them both if they just get this over with, because he doesn’t waste any time shoving Jason’s face up and down Slade’s dick at a brutal pace that makes the omega gag and push at Slade with his scrawny arms, as his body reflexively tries to escape.

Slade manages to pry his eyes open to look at Richard once more. “Last thing, your highness. Rub his cunt. Without entering him.

The color that rises in the prince’s cheeks brings a wicked kind of glee to Slade’s heart. He could tell, through this whole thing, Richard's scent had that delicious tang of  _ jealousy _ to it. He’s been dying to touch the boy he wanted to mate. 

So Slade is unsurprised when Richard lets out a little happy sigh when his fingers dip between the wet folds of the omega’s cunt.

And it has the effect Slade was hoping for. Desire spikes hard in the younger alpha, and he gets rougher, slamming Jason down Slade’s cock, jerking him back up, and shoving him back down with weight behind it.

The little omega is strangling on Slade’s dick and it’s a beautiful sight. The boy’s face is red, lips bruised, dark lashes damp with the next tears waiting their turn to make off color streaks down that sweet, innocent face.

“Stop,” he snarls, and Richard pulls his hand back immediately even if the other keeps working between the omega’s legs.

Slade takes the princess’s head in both hands and pulls him down the last inch, forcing the boy’s jaw wider around his growing knot.

“W-wait,” Richard says breathlessly. “You...you’ll hurt him..”

“He can take it. Can’t you bitch? You can take your alpha’s knot wherever I want to put it. Such a good little hole for me.”

Despite the words. Jason is struggling with renewed fervor. 

Slade just holds him close, cute little nose pressed against the course white at the base of his cock, and pumps his seed down the princess’s throat as it tightens around him and milks him for all he’s got. 

“Suck on my knot, slut,” Slade coos down at the omega, running his fingers through sweaty strands of black. “It needs the pressure if you want it to go down faster.”

With a strangled sob, mouth stuck so wide open Slade wonders if he dislocated the kid’s jaw, Jason starts swallowing around the bulge. 

Slade is not particularly shocked that Richard is entirely focused on the omega’s dripping pussy, mesmerized by the feel and smell of slick. Slade doesn’t bother stopping him. The more he does it on his own, the worse he’ll feel about it when he snaps out of it.

It only takes about 10 minutes for his knot to come down enough to slip out of the omega’s mouth. Richard hasn’t stopped touching the princess the whole time, even when the boy starts trembling uncontrollably. He looks like someone slapped him when Jason, no longer tied to Slade’s cock, collapses in a heap on the floor. 

“Take the prince and get him cleaned up,” Slade orders as he tucks himself back in his blood and mud stained trousers. 

Billy drags the dazed Richard out of the hall as Slade scoops up the princess. 

He rips the skirts off to a loud cheer, before tossing the omega over his shoulder.

Ignoring the whimper he  _ finally _ pulls from the bitch when he palms over the giant brand on his back, Slade toys with the boy’s ass as he strides from the hall as well, pressing his finger against the tight, puckered hole without penetrating. 

“Now. Let’s find the king’s rooms. Since I owe you a second bleeding and first thing that’s fucking this cute little hole—” he flicks his finger against it hard enough to make the omega whine in protest, “—is my cock, we might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write the most fragile, innocent little princess Jason I could but he refused to be written too far out of character. 
> 
> Hilariously rude comments are apparently SUPER motivational and absolutely demolished my writer's block :D

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Delicate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999470) by [sarriathmg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarriathmg/pseuds/sarriathmg)




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